


An Icy Touch

by Beserk



Category: Dracula - Bram Stoker
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-01-30 04:50:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beserk/pseuds/Beserk
Summary: Alone with Mina, Jonathan suddenly realizes that his beloved is no longer in control of her own body...
Relationships: Count Dracula/Jonathan Harker, Jonathan Harker/Mina Harker
Comments: 25
Kudos: 223





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [An Icy Touch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23244085) by [AllenTraduction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllenTraduction/pseuds/AllenTraduction)

"Jonathan."

Jonathan rubbed his eyes and looked up. Mina and him were, for once, alone. The good doctor and the rest had gone out earlier that day and had yet to return, for which Jonathan was immensely grateful. It had been some time since Mina and he had enjoyed the luxury of time spent in seclusion, the two of them alone.

It seemed, however, that Mina was quite tired, and as such desired nothing more then to rest in bed. Jonathan could not blame her. The resent past had been quite horrifying. Every time Jonathan was reminded of what happened to poor Lucy, he was brought close to tears. And every time he thought of who had done such horrific things to her he felt as though he could not breathe.

And the thought that the same thing could be happening to his darling Mina as well…

He hadn't expected Mina to speak. She'd been laying, silent and pale, across the sheets. The morning sun had shone on her, making her seem even more of an angel to Jonathan. Mina was so pale now, it hurt his heart to see. He feared she was slipping from him, one day at a time.

She was now stranding, though, and slowly walking towards where he lounged by the window. There was something odd about her that Jonathan could not quite place in his mind. It was certainly Mina, sauntering towards him. But it was also, frighteningly, certainly not.

"Jonathan," Mina called out his name once more as she came up to him. There was a gleeful quality to her voice that did not sit well with him. It was a sound of smugness he had never before heard coming out of the mouth of his beloved fiancé. She traced her fingers down his throat, and they were as cold as ice. Jonathan felt a desperate need growing inside of him to turn and run.

"M-Mina," Jonathan stammered. "Perhaps you'd better return to your rest-"

"Hush," Mina placed her long, elegant finger on his lip, and the cold nearly burned. A memory tickled the back of his mind, buried but insistent, of other ice-cold fingers touching his lips, of pain and teeth reddened with blood. He shivered, and the half-known memory retreated back into the darkness. "Hush, my most beloved."

There was such an odd quality to Mina's tone. Jonathan whimpered in fear, unable to stop himself, when he realized what it was. Mina no longer sounded English.

She sounded as though she were from the Count's own land.

"No, my bride," Mina leaned forwards, her nose nearly touching Jonathan's throat, and he shivered, desperate to escape but unable to. "You mustn't fear me, for I shall love you above all others. And through me shall you transcend the mortal coil."

But Jonathan could not prevent his fear. He would not try, for the creature now smelling at his neck while tracing ice fingers down his chest was not his beloved Mina. It was, he realized with horror, the Count.

"Please," Jonathan begged as blunt teeth scratched his skin, "Please, tell me what you have done with my Mina."

"She is here, best beloved. Laying in wait for the release of her flesg," Count Dracula detached Mina's lips from Jonathan's skin, slithering like some devilish snake to gaze into Jonathan's eyes.

It was the face of his beloved Mina, but the eyes of the Count. Red and gleaming, burrowing deep into Jonathan's very soul, which was laid bare for his greedy gaze. There was no God to protect Jonathan, or if there were, he could not sense it's presence. He was as alone as he had been in the castle.

Dracula smiled, and Jonathan shuttered at the perversion of so-loved features. Must it be Mina? Could it not have been another, so corrupted and destroyed? Could it not have been himself? He'd have given his own soul to save hers, and not thought twice.

"Do you intend-do you intend to do her harm?" The words were painful to speak, but speak them Jonathan must. He could not live in such fear, he must know.

It was now lips touching his skin, kissing his forehead in an intimate and nearly gentle manner. But the cold made even the gentle touch hurt, and Jonathan nearly cried out, for the pain was great as the touch lingered. He wished to beg the Count to detach from his skin, to cease hurting him thus.

But he was not able to speak, and certainly not able to move. He could so nothing but endure as the creature took what it wished from him, waiting for a reply to his quarry.

"You love her," Dracula said, pulling away to once again trap Jonathan with his gaze. "Do you not? The lovely Mina?"

When Jonathan did not reply fast enough, the Count grabbed his chin, eliciting a cry of pain from the young man.

"Answer me when I speak, sweet Jonathan," The creature hissed, tightening his hold by the second. "Lest Mina feel my wrath."

Spurred into action by fear, Jonathan choked out a cry, "Yes."

"Yes, you love her?"

"Yes," Jonathan nearly whimpered in relief when the fingers were taken off his skin. He felt as though he out to be bruised, but a single touch proved his skin was as unmarred as it ever was. "Yes, I love her greatly."

"Hmm," Dracula tilted his head and smirked cruelly, a look which would never have dared appear on Mina's sweet face. "I cannot fault your choice, my young darling. She is as beautiful as any woman living."

Jonathan closed his eyes, "I-what would you ask for, in order to leave Mina untouched?"

"And what, prey tell, would you give me?"

Jonathan opened his eyes, but kept them away from the creature, "Anything."

"A most tempting offer," The Count clicked Mina's tongue. "But there is nothing you may offer me that I do not intend to take."

The words made Jonathan nearly sob, for he thought he had once known what it was that Dracula wished to take from him. But that knowledge had been hidden away along with the memories of the castle. He wanted, and feared greatly, those memories. Would it not be better to know?

"But, my little bride," Dracula went on. "I see no cause for ending lovely Mina's life quite so soon. Not when she may yet serve a purpose. But you, dear one, must remember to speak nothing of me to her. Remember, that through her I watch you always, that always I have my dear little Englishman under watch. You will remember, yes?"

"I will remember," Jonathan whispered.

Dracula grinned, triumphant, and bent down to kiss Jonathan softly on the lips. The touch hurt, but it lasted only a moment, and when it was at an end, Mina's body collapsed against Jonathan and he knew, somewhere deep within him, that Mina had been returned to him.


	2. Chapter 2

He watched his wife, watched her as though he were a hawk and she a mouse. It had been nearly a week since the frightening day when the Count had taken over Mina, and she remembered nothing. There had been no recurrence of the terrifying event, but there were moments, always at night, when Mina looked at Jonathan and he could not be certain if her eyes were her own or if they were the creature's. They would shine slightly, growing nearly crimson in color, and then she'd smirk, or begin slithering towards Jonathan.

Every time this occurred, Jonathan felt his heart nearly stopping, but before he could succumb to his fear and began crying, Mina would still and shutter, and as he chanced a look at her he would see she was fighting for breath, as frightened and uncertain as he.

It was creating disturbance in their marriage, and the others could tell. Nothing could be clearer. Jonathan was nearly frightened of Mina, untrusting of her while the others seeked to free her from the grip of the monster. While they talked to her with kindness and compassion, Jonathan watched. He dared not speak to her, fearful of the monster listening through her ears. And he dared not tell the others of his motives, so afraid to anger Dracula.

And so the others frowned, not understanding the coldness that he was exhibiting towards her. He had heard Dr. Seward declare to the others, when they thought Jonathan asleep, that Jonathan must be kept under as close a watch as Mina, for, "He is as close to collapse as any man I have yet seen."

There was no denying the wisdom in the man's words. Jonathan felt it too, the creeping of disaster in the back of his mind, the fear lacing through his body with every breath he took, with every look Mina sent his way. He felt shame, that he should give so little comfort to the woman he had pledged to protect, but there was ought he could do.

One afternoon, as Jonathan sat watching over his sleeping wife and observing, bitter despair coursing through him, how deathly pale she had grown, Dr. Seward came to stand by his side, placing his hand upon Jonathan's shoulder.

The touch awoke dormant memories within Jonathan, memories of a cold hand on his shoulder, icy lips on his ear, pain flashing through his body as teeth scraped down to his-

"Jonathan," Dr. Seward's voice did little to calm him. Jonathan could see the worry clearly luminating the man's eyes as Jonathan was scared nearly to death, jumping in his chair and whimpering. "Jonathan-"

"All is well," Jonathan whimpered once more, the lie heavy on his tongue. He gently moved Dr. Seward-John's- hand off of him. The impolite action did not sit well with him, but a small voice within him whispered that he must not allow the touch of another man on him, that it would not be well received by Mina…by the creature within her.

_Always I have my dear little Englishman under watch…_

"Forgive me," Jonathan pleaded, turning his eyes away from John towards Mina as she lay on a divan, eyes closed and chest gently raising and falling as she breathed. For she still breathed, though she seemed less and less the Mina he knew by the day. He felt that he spoke to her with no words uttered, begging her forgiveness for bringing a demon to her doorstep. "Please."

"You had done nothing that requires forgiveness," John said sternly, though Jonathan knew that wasn't so.

"And yet I have," Jonathan mumbled, shivering as he saw Mina's eyes fluttering behind closed eyelids. "I have brought this terror on us, John."

"You have not," John leaned by Jonathan's chair, returning his hand to Jonathan's shoulder. Jonathan knew he must force it away, but could not quite bring himself to do so. The warmth was comforting, and necessary to Jonathan's sanity. "This nightmare is not on your conscience."

"It was I that brought the demon to our country," Jonathan murmured. "Was it not?"

"It was not," John shook his head. "Would he had not come otherwise, if you had not come to his damned abode?"

"I-" Jonathan nodded, unable to deny the wisdom in John's words. "That is true."

"There you have it," John smiled, but Jonathan could tell it was quite strained.

But Jonathan swallowed as he realized that while it was true that the Count's tainting presence would have arrived to London whether or not he'd been the one to be sent to his castle, it was also true that had it not been him, Mina would not have been the one now laying with her mind and body at war with a devil.

"But Mina-"

"Mina will be saved," John promised, though how he could do so Jonathan did not know. "We shall save her, my good friend."

And with that assurance, John took his leave of the Harkers, leaving Jonathan to carefully move to Mina's side, hoping to find her in her right mind.

It was not to be. As he reached her, Mina's eyes flew open, and they were as red as ambers and as cold as midnight air. Jonathan, feeling horror seep through him, fell down to the ground, body shaking and mind a thunder.

"If you allow such a touch on your skin again, my bride," The count whispered. "Mina shall suffer a thousand deaths. She shall scream as she descends into Hell, and her screams shall end when time itself does."

Jonathan nodded his agreement, for what else could he do? What else could he say, to perhaps prolong Mina's life? He did not know if he could, if he had sway over the count, but if he possessed it, it would be used for his beloved's benefit and nothing else's.

"Do not lie there, frightened and unsure," Mina's voice whispered as she gracefully stepped off the divan. "Raise yourself, as you have nothing to fear. Nothing may harm you, my little darling. Nothing may touch you, for I have laid my claim on you. None may hurt you."

"But for you," Jonathan cried, bitter and full of fear. "None may harm me but for you, is that not so?"

The count shook Mina's head, lovely black curls falling on either side of her long and white neck. Oh, how Jonathan longed to kiss that neck! To kiss it and know that it belonged to Mina and Mina alone. Should he touch it now, the skin would burn him, colder than death.

"I do not wish to cause you harm," The count assured, but his words brought no relief to Jonathan. Nothing, he thought, could bring him relief. Even if Dracula were taken, erased from Jonathan's life and Mina's mind, memories would still persist. Memories of the castle, where Jonathan had been eager, oh so very eager, to be…

No! No, he must not allow such thoughts in his mind. If he were to allow them, he would go mad. And he must not go mad, for a madman could not protect Mina. To protect Mina- that was now the one purpose keeping him from flinging himself out the window, which he saw as his only escape. For not but death could keep Dracula at bay.

"You…you cause enough of it," Jonathan whispered. "You have taken my wife and taken my sanity, killed and destroyed so many, destroyed dear Lucy, who hadn't hurt a soul-"

"Oh, yes, the precious living," Dracula sneered, crawling now to Jonathan. "Lovely Lucy and lovely Mina, neither as lovely as my lovely Jonathan. Have I hurt you, my little bride? Have I caused _you_ harm?"

"You have caused me harm, by causing harm to her which I love," Jonathan replied, and cried out when Mina's delicate fingers brushed his cheek. "And you cause me harm by seeking to touch my flesh!"

"That pain shall wither and disappear, my Jonathan," Dracula told him, his tone rather soft, as though he were making apologies. "Once you have tasted of my blood."

Jonathan choked on his horror, the thought of being forced to ingest the night-creature's blood too awful to comprehend. And yet, even as he feared, he could not prevent his body from growing warm, as though it, apart from him, considered such a thought delightful.

"You mean to take over my mind and soul?" Jonathan held himslef, back to the wall, feeling as though he might find comfort in his own flesh. "As you have taken over Lucy's, and Mina's?"

"I mean to make you mine," Dracula growled. "I mean to make you as I am, my eternal companion in the night. You will remember, once it is done, what pleasure you took from it in the castle. I was a fool, to leave you there. I thought you'd be safest with my daughters. But you are a tenacious little one, are you not? And escaped as they tried to feast on you. It was wrong of me to put you in their care, and for that you have my sincerest apologies. But I do not, nor have I ever, wish for you to be as Lucy and Mina are. I wish for you to be free of mind, for how else may you surrender yourself to me of your own free will? And what pleasure could be gained from you, were it to come from coercion?"

"But you will not gain my surrender," Jonathan said, greatly praying he was not wrong in such an assurance. "Never. I shall never-"

"But you shall, my little sweetheart," Dracula hummed. "For I have eternity to seduce you to my side, and the day will come when you shall collapse into my arms and beg to never be made to leave. Feast your heart on what you perceive as your freedom, I shall come soon to give you true liberation."

Once more painfully cold lips were pressed into his own, and once more Mina collapsed into his arms, restored. But now Jonathan raised her in his arms and laid her back on the divan, wishing not to touch and hold her, but rather to be as far from her still form as possible.

Feeling he must leave or go mad, Jonathan fled.


	3. Chapter 3

He was being cowardly. He knew this, but found that he did not care. It was ungentlemanly behavior, cruel and wrong, to leave his wife and friends to face the demon alone. But he could not stay and face him himself. Or if he did, it would be at the cost of his soul. And the soul of his beloved Mina.

Mina, oh Mina. Jonathan knew he must be condemning her to death by his actions. If he were gone, Dracula would have no use for her, and death would follow swiftly. But death was better than the undead life that would be her fate should Dracula maintain the corruption of her soul. Were he a braver, better man, Jonathan would have taken his wife's life before he fled. Were he the man Mina deserved, he would have saved her by his own hand, before saving his own soul as well.

But Jonathan was not as brave, as good, as Mina deserved. He had been wrong to marry her, wrong to bind them together after escaping the clutches of the three weird sisters (and sisters they truly were, Jonathan now knew. His daughters, the count had called them. His daughters with whom he mated! The horror of it was a knife twisting in Jonathan's very soul). He had known, then, that though he loved Mina dearly, there was a passion within him, awakened by the count, that Mina would forever be unable to satisfy.

A passion to be penetrated. By the sisters' teeth, perhaps. Or perhaps by the count's…

Jonathan groaned as he staggered in the dark. He had not wanted to face that passion, brewing inside of him like a slow but deadly fire. He had thought it was a dream, caused by the brain fever. But it was not so. It was the brain fever that had come to hide the passion, to allow Jonathan to hide all memories of the castle in the dark regions of his mind. Never to be accessed again.

Until Dracula once more awaken them.

It was as if Jonathan had been sleeping, a blissful and sweet sleep, his entire life. Believing he could love Mina, could love all the other women he had courted. He remembered a girl, when he had not been much older than a child himself, who had smiled at him and wanted his love. He could not remember her face, it morphed into that of her older brother, who had whispered words into Jonathan's ear that even now he could not think of without blushing. Jonathan had wanted to marry the girl, for then he could keep her brother always by his side. But she had been too young, as had he, and he had been sent to university, to study, and by the time he returned both she and her brother had been married well.

It had been a pain in his heart, and he had told himself and others that it was for loss of the girl. His mind had been nearly convinced, so much so that he never again allowed another man to speak such words to him.

The count hadn't spoken to him. At least not when he crept into his room while Jonathan lay, nearly asleep in bed. While they sat in the library together, while Jonathan dined, Dracula spoke to him, and they had the most wonderous conversations. Fascinating and mesmerizing, Jonathan sat and listened to the man speak for hours on end. But in the dark, Dracula did not need words to work his spell on Jonathan. He simply threw off his covers and looked at him, paralyzing him with a glance.

Jonathan lay there, unable to move, as Dracula did all that that young man had promised to do to him, those many years ago. It had hurt, hurt so much, the cold fingers painful on his skin. Jonathan would have cried out in agony if he had not been unable to move. But when it was done, and the pain retreated, there was a dull humming in Jonathan's body and soul, a delicious sense of pleasure.

It was all too much, all those memories forcing themselves on his waking mind, and Jonathan found himself nearly collapsing on the ground, emptying his stomach and heaving.

He gasped, wiping his mouth as he attempted to steady himself, and placed his hand on the brick side of a townhouse. He was, he realized, in a small alley away from any prying eyes. All alone. Utterly alone. As he had wanted, as he had intended when he ran.

Jonathan groaned and rubbed his eyes, attempting to prevent tears from spilling out of them. God preserve him, he was tired. He wished for Mina, for her warm and sweet touch, for the peace he had once found there. It was never to be so again, he knew. Never again would he be satisfied with Mina's love. There were other loves he wished for now, and they would not be denied.

"Why must you torment yourself thusly?" A voice whispered in his ear.

In fear, Jonathan wretched himself forward, putting much needed space between he and the phantom behind him. But as he turned he saw that it was no true phantom.

It was a man, who appeared no older than Jonathan himself. A tall man, wearing the clothes of a well-to-do gentleman and carrying an ornate cane. The man had chestnut colored hair and a hawk-like nose. His eyes shone bright and red. He was beautiful, the most beautiful man Jonathan had ever seen.

The count, Jonathan knew, though he barely knew his face. So much younger, so much fuller of life. When Jonathan- and Mina- had seen the count on Hyde park, he had seemed to be around forty years of age, but now he seemed of Jonathan's own age. He had shaved his mustache, and was now clean shaven. Jonathan felt a terrible fire grow in him, a fire that had no fear amongst it's accelerant. No fear of fury or disgust. Only a desperate need.

"My sweet Jonathan," Dracula sighed, as though put off by the man before him. "Come to me, my darling. I shall free you from this torment you have placed your own self in."

"It is not I who placed this torment on my soul," Jonathan replied, stepping backwards though he knew there was no place to run to. "It is you, and only you who have done so."

"I? It was not I, best beloved, who kindled that need in you," Dracula walked towards Jonathan who, in his haste to escape, took a too-quick step and lost his balance, tumbling to the ground. "I simply brought it out from the pit of your mind."

Jonathan looked up at the creature looming over him, and he knew there was no fight he could put up that could save him now. For there was no fight he wished to put up, no saving he wished to find for himself. His only fear now was pain, and that would soon be remedied. 

"How…how many lives have you taken, to look as you do now?" Jonathan asked, rubbing his eyes.

Dracula merely chuckled, and swept down to kneel by Jonathan's side, "What importance is there to that?"

"I wish to know," Jonathan whispered. "I wish to know how many lives you have taken-"

"You do not wish to know this," Dracula dismissed him, reaching his arm to Jonathan.

Fear overtook the solicitor, and he scrambled away, until his back hit a cold wall behind him. He did not want to be touched, did not want the pain that came from the count's skin, and did not want the pleasure he knew the creature held in store for him.

"Don't," Jonathan pleaded. "I beg of you, don't."

"Oh, darling Jonathan," Dracula sighed and shook his head, as if disappointed in Jonathan. "If you allow my touch, you shall feel no more pain from it."

"Perhaps not on my flesh," Jonathan brought his hands up to his eyes, trying with no avail to keep his bitter tears within himself. "But on my _soul_."

"Oh, souls," Dracula sneered, raising his wrist to his red mouth and biting. Jonathan watched, eyes widening with horror and…something else, as crimson blood began to drip from Dracula's wrist. "Souls are nothing that may be taken, for they do not exist. There is nothing but the mind and body, Jonathan. There is no soul as there is no God. And both your mind and body are mine, and have been from the moment you came to my castle. Come to me, my bride, come and cease your suffering."

It was as if he were back in the castle, back where his heart and soul (for Jonathan could not agree with the count that souls were phantom creations of the human mind, not when he could see the cruelness of the count's very soul reflected in his eyes) was laid bare for Dracula, and he could do nothing but allow the very essence of his being to be penetrated, over and over again.

"Do not do this," Jonathan whispered to himself, thinking of Mina, prompting himself to remember his responsibilities towards her, of the vows he had taken. As he spoke, he saw Dracula watch him with a cruel smirk, and it was rather clear to Jonathan that the count had no qualms as to what must be done and what shall be done. "Mina…"

But he could not find the words he must speak to free himself from the spell the count's eyes had him under. Very possibly there were no words that could achieve such a goal. Perhaps there was nothing that could free him, perhaps it was not truly the count who had put him under said spell.

Perhaps he had been born, begotten thusly.

Perhaps there was no evil for him to defeat.

"Do it," Jonathan whispered.

"Yes," Dracula hissed, raising his bleeding wrist to Jonathan's lips. "Drink, my bride, and become one with me."

Jonathan drank.


End file.
